


this heart's still solid like a knife

by torches



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: Character of Color, Gen, Transfic Mini Fest, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-10
Updated: 2010-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:04:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torches/pseuds/torches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is noise, but it is her name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this heart's still solid like a knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kanata (kyuuketsukirui)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuuketsukirui/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, Chrome Dokuro, this has nothing to do with Mukuro; this is about me" during the [Transfic Mini Fest](http://kanata.dreamwidth.org/1255196.html).

Her hand is small where it covers Mukuro's own, and he looks at her with half-lidded, disinterested and wary eyes.

"I've felt it before," he says, patient and uncomprehending. "It's your heart. It beats. You're grateful to me for it."

Chrome shakes her head, smiling. "No. It's not my heart I'm grateful for the most." She moves his hand till it falls on her breast, small and firm under his touch.

Mukuro's eyes don't change. He has seen every inch of her, his perception has examined every atom that shapes her, and this touch is nothing next to that.

"You saw me," Chrome says to him, her fingers tightening around his hand. "When no one else did."

Mukuro hums in the back of his throat. "The way you phrase it to others implies I _saved_ you when nobody else would," he says, and shifts his hand to slide up her chest, to see whether she lets him. Of course she does. His fingertips rest in the hollow of her neck, wallowing in the dip of her collarbone, before his thumb presses in against the tip of her adam's apple - pushes in and forces her to swallow.

She meets his gaze without fear. "No. You understood. It was a cage. Dying would have been a release too. Dying was okay. It wasn't about being free -" She stops, Mukuro's finger stilling her lips.

"It was about being yourself," he finishes for her. His eyes glitter; the corners of his mouth shiver with some inexplicable emotion. "You used me, _Ku-ro-mu_," he says, pronouncing her name with explicit emphasis on each syllable: isolating the individual sounds, reducing her name to noise.

Her skin tingles at the touch of his finger against her mouth. She closes her eyes and opens them immediately after.

It is noise, but it is her _name_. She belongs to it and it to her. "You didn't teach me deception, Mukuro-sama." Her hand reaches up - it doesn't shake - to run a finger across the line of his chin. "You just let me speak the truth when no one else would." He leans into her touch, the lines of his face resolving, finally, into a smile as inscrutable as his eyes can make it.

"As if I could fail to listen," he says, and brushes his hand across her chest again, where, under her loose clothes and a bra she still doesn't need, two small breasts rise and fall with every breath she takes. "And now you can speak it for yourself?" His eyebrows rise a little, amused and probing.

She presses one hand against her chest, against her clothes, and breathes in against the rustle of fabric on her skin. She can feel the workings of organs that are no less her own, no less real, for being called "illusions", and she smiles.

"Yes," she says, and pulls Mukuro in close to feel the motions of her chest against his, just a little while longer.


End file.
